Chapter Text
*
Jumin hadn’t thought of you in years, at least two by his count. Then late last night the chatroom had been unusually active, both Hyun and Saeyoung teasing him with Jihyun and Saeran doing very little to support him. It had reminded him of when you had joined the RFA.
He had found his mind wandering back to the sweet spot in the few years you’d been with them. The brief period after everything had happened with Mint Eye and before the deterioration of your relationship with Zen. Of course they’d all been smitten with you initially but your feelings for the actor had been clear from the start and he supposed as a performer yourself it was an easy choice.
At least at first.
What he hadn’t expect was to be out late with his finance team, sitting in a little Jazz bar with his black card on the tab looking at the stage and seeing
you
. He hadn’t noticed at first, the band seemed to rotate and he’d never seen you sing. Never considered, despite your background, that you’d play an instrument. He didn’t even know you’d come back to Seoul. He'd known you could sing, known you did, he'd heard your guides when you were particularly proud of something you'd written but he'd never seen you like this. Not on stage, not the singer.
His father had implemented an unspoken rule that initiated these ridiculous team dinners as a reward and it was his turn to host. The finance team was insufferable but he was feigning interest in whatever they were talking about, podcasts he supposes but then there’s a lull in the conversation and the string section swells and he glances towards the stage just as your voice picks up.
He knows now, it’s you.
He’s about to look away but then as your eyes scan the the room they find his and he feels caught, it’s almost thrilling. He thinks maybe he should break, this isn’t some kind of display of dominance but it’s thrilling in a way to see your eyes light up at the sight of him.
You were still a member, of course, still had access but, after everything that had happened you hadn’t logged on. You sign off on anything he sends to you but, you don’t communicate.
The song ends and you stay at the microphone stand, someone behind you speaks and you nod. You tear your eyes away and then the strings pick up and Jumin is pulled back into the swell of conversation as you croon Etta James.
He drifts between discussion of politics and investments, and then back to you. He knew you wrote and sang pop songs and that you did contract work with one of the larger idol companies. But that was years ago. You looked comfortable. Your voice is clear and steady when he has the chance to listen.
In his peripheral he sees you swap out with one of the other singers and he thinks he feels your fingers brush across his shoulders as you passes behind him on your way to the bar. He signals the bartender to put you on his tab and wonders how much you’ve changed. Paying for you is his move, the ball is in your court if you wish to speak with him.
When you’re back of the stage and the finance team has started filtering out, those remaining are too inebriated to hold conversation anymore and the song you’re singing isn’t familiar, it’s soft and haunting and filled with longing. It reminds him of the person you’’d been the last time he’d seen you.
He supposes that this is your move. Jumin has been nursing a scotch on the rocks for a few hours and he finds himself ordering another, neat, and moving to lean against one of the tables directly in front of you.
You make a point of not looking at him.
When the song ends you look past him and say your thanks to the crowd, a decent amount of people who are obviously here to see you or the band, or both. There are whoops and cheers as the crowd claps for them. Then with no accompaniment and no warning you begin to sing another a song. Jumin can tell from the body language of the other musicians that this song was not planned, either you’ve changed the set or you’re simply singing one more. No one seems particularly put out however.
He doesn’t think it’s unreasonable to assume this one is in response to seeing him. There’s only him and his assistant left from his party.
You finally make eye contact and it’s like you’re tugging on a fish hook deep inside his gut and as your voice softens and the song fades out. The lights come up and then the PA is playing top 40s and it seems very quickly he watches instruments getting put in cases.
But you’re watching him while you wrap cables and Jumin wonders if now would be a good time to speak with her.
“You could help,” you say before he makes a choice.
“Maybe,” he offers.
“You didn’t tip at least break down a mic stand,” you snort.
But he’s already moving to help. “I paid for your drink,” he says.
“Yes, Jumin, thanks you for covering my free glass of water,” a smile plays at the corners of your mouth.
“Ah,” he says back handing you a wrapped cable.
“Noona,” one of the musicians hisses, “Noona, don’t make him help, do you know who he is?”
Jumin looks up and it strikes him how young a lot of the musicians with you are, not one of them less than 10 years younger than him.
“Is he someone special?” You ask eyes wide, before turning back to him. “Han Jumin are you someone special?”
The boy sputters.
“I suppose so,” Jumin answers and he finds himself chuckling. “It’s been a long time,” he adds.
“I suppose so,” you echo. “You don’t call, you don’t write.”
One of the other musicians takes the cable out of his hands and then turns and does the same thing to you. “Noona you’re good to go.”
“Are you serious right now?” You gawk at him.
“You never smile when you talk to boys,” he winks, “and this one has fuck you money, relax we’ll tear down.”
You rolls your eyes but even in the dim light he can see you blush. The hook twists. “Ok but I’m here until you all leave. I’ll double check that everything makes it out. Have the gear back to the studio by 9am or else.”
“Yeah yeah, you’ll take our finger nails or whatever.” He intones.
“Blood will spill,” someone else calls.
You nod solemnly. And then beckon him towards the bar. When you’ve both settled where you can watch the band move equipment off stage you look at him, gaze soft, when you say, “It’s been a long time.”
He nods. “A few years at least.”’
You laugh, “Five Jumin, it’s been 5 years.”
“You know whatever happened you’re always welcome to talk to us, you can simply come into the chatroom wherever you are.”
“I could,” you agree, “but to what end? It’s a delicate balance Jumin. I’m finally in a good place I don’t know if I want to risk that.”
“What risk is there to typing words on a screen,” he says and he finds he’s softened his voice to match you. He can see his assistant walking in this direction and he knows his time is coming to a close.
You sigh. “Jumin I’ve barely come back to Seoul, everything that happened took a toll you know.”
“Of course,” he nods. “But it’s been some time and you are still welcome.”
Things are quiet and he can see you chewing on your lip before you say, “Am I?”
“Of course,” he answers quickly.
“No,” you say seriously. “Jumin, am I really? When everything happened there was a very clear line drawn. It wasn’t Hyun that kept me out of Seoul, it was the reminder that everyone chose him.”
Jumin scoffs,” Of course not.”
“Jumin,” you warn.
“No,” he shakes his head. “Some people did, but not clearly, not the way you are implying.”
“Jumin,” you say again, and he can see the effort it takes to keep your voice soft for him. “Saeyoung, my best friend , chose him. Jaehee wasn’t willing to choose. And when I stopped coming to the chat do you know who checked in on me?”
“No one?” Jumin wagers.
“Only Saeren.”
“Oh.”
“Listen I get it, there’s a lot of history there but this was kind of it for me. Hyun basically bulldozed my career prospects at the company. There was everything I needed to hear in the silence.”
“I under-“
“Mr. Han,” Jumin’s assistant interrupts them. “The bar closes soon, the staff have all left should I call driver Kim?”
“Han Jumin,” you scold.
“Yes,” he says both to you and to his assistant.
“What did you do?”
“I’m sorry?” He says confused.
“Is that Yoosungie?’ You hiss, suddenly shy.
But his assistant’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. He’s already turning back around to them when Jumin says, “I suppose when he is not on the clock you would call him that.”
Yoosung’s eyebrows knit together for a moment before his brain kicks into gear. “Noona?”
“Kim Yoonsung,” you grouse. “You promised me!”
“Ah,” he says, bashful for a moment. “Well I needed money.”
You nod, seriously. “The great equalizer. He’s not mean to you?”
“No more than he is to anyone else,” Yoosung nods.
Jumin grumbles. “Tell Driver Kim he can meet us out front and I will bringing Noona home as well.”
“Oh no Jumin, I brought my own car, it’s fine.” You wave him off. “Unless, you want to send Driver Kim home and I can drop you off on my way?”
“I’m on your way?” Jumin asks.
“You think you’re the only one in this room with Money CEO-nim?” you laugh and he realizes he missed the sound of it.
There’s a little bit of housekeeping to be done. You tell the staff that Jumin is with you as he closes his tab and sends Yoosung home. He follows you to back of house and watches as you check off a list on your phone and sends the rest of the band off before doing a final sweep of the stage and making sure staff have your number in case anything is missing on either end. You then leads Jumin out the back where you wave at the cars containing your band and your gear peal out of the lot and gesture to a modest sedan.
“Am I taking you home,” you ask, “or did you want to come back to my place, there’s a little popup on the corner that stays open late.”
“You want to be seen drinking, late , with me?” He questions.
“The Ajusshi that runs it dotes on me, he’ll pack me a to-go box.” You laugh. “When have I ever wanted to be seen with you ?”
He rolls his eyes.
They stop at his building and you insist on waiting while he changes and checks on Elizabeth. He has nothing scheduled and he suspects there’s quite a lot to catch up on.
Your building is not cheap, but it certainly isn’t the most expensive on the block. None the less he is impressed. You park in the underground garage and lead him outside, conversation surface level and pleasant as you both find your way to the red tent stall on the corner. There’s a bag of food already tied and waiting.
“Oh,” the older man behind the counter says when he sees Jumin behind you. “Boyfriend?”
“Aish,” you snort. “He wishes. Could I get an extra bottle of soju? It’s a reunion.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” A younger man’s voice asks from the other side of the counter.
You look Jumin up and down. “He wishes,” you smile, tho a little more thoughtfulness to it this time.
“Aish,” Jumin takes his turn.
Once the food and drink has been sorted out you lead Jumin to your place. Much like him you’ve styled your single bedroom as a studio, the bedroom converted to a home studio/office. It’s tidy, if not a little cluttered. He looks around and lets the familiarity of you to seep deep into his bones while you quickly makes your bed and shove an end table to the middle of the floor for him to eat at.
“You were in London a few weeks ago,” you say, a statement not a question. “You took the tube. I thought I was losing my mind and then it was in the paper. I kept thinking, this stranger is going to move and the spell is going to be broken and he’s going to think I’m crazy and I’m going to agree with him because what would Han Jumin be doing on the London tube at rush hour.”
“ What were you doing on the London tube at rush hour?” He asks pouring you a glass of soju before pouring himself one.
You put music on before you answer.
“I had a business tea, we were finalizing numbers with some distributors,” you shrug.
He nods and then you both drink your soju. “Saeyoung canceled my car I had no other option.”
You raise your eyebrow at that. “Saeyoung did? Are you sure?”
“Who else would it be,” he laughs pouring another.
“Well,” youchuckle to yourself. “Only one of the Choi’s knew we were both in London.”
“What motivation would Saeren have for a prank like that?”
You pause and he wonders how it is he can still read you so well as you search for the correct way to break news you worry will make him uncomfortable. “You father has been courting my company and he had asked me to bring some of the kids and sing at an event. I had been on the fence.”
Jumin freezes mid pour. “What exactly do you do now?”
You laugh outright then. Reaching out you upright the bottle before he can spill. “I started a music company with a few friends. We specialize in solo and duo acts, we started out buying out trainee contracts from bigger companies, kids that had been in too long but wouldn’t give up. We encourage them to get into self production and we get them followings with events like you saw tonight so that when they debut properly they already have an audience.
We’ve been doing really well and western consumers are really backing up our artists. We stayed pretty spread out but we’ve been picking up investors so we invested in a dorm and studio space and I moved back to Seoul last year.”
“Wow,” he says, it’s all he can think to say.
You giggle and that fish hook in his gut tugs again. You both take another shot of soju before you stand up and get two glasses and two cans of beer from the fridge.
“I signed the contract with C&R last week,” you say, “and I will be singing at an event your father is hosting next Thursday.”
He looks up when you crack one of the beer and hand it to him.
“I think he’s been flirting with me but you know how that goes.”
Jumin blinks heavy.
The song playing in the background seems to echo the story about seeing him on a train and he wonders if you knew it would play.
“We’ve invested in you?” He asks, just to hear you keep speaking.
“We’ll I guess it’s one of your subsidiaries probably,” you shrug leaning back, humming along with the song.
He finds himself leaning closer.
You hum to the end of the song and takes the beer from his hand, taking a long drink before handing it back, never sitting up. “You know I knew it was never going to last with Zen and I.”
He nods, you giggle again and sit up.
“God Jumin, at least look surprised.”
“I am,” he says earnestly. “I did not take you as one for futility.”
“It wasn’t futility, or I didn’t think it would be.” You sigh. “I liked him and I didn’t want to be cynical and not try, and no one else had made a move.”
He tries not to react at what he thinks you’re implying.
“I thought; this probably isn’t going to work, you know? I thought I should try. I figured worst case it would fizzle out, we’d be too alike, or too busy and we’d naturally shift to friends, but I guess I misread a lot about Hyun then.”
He holds out his beer and you laugh before you take another drink from it. He groans then, as he stands, and holds a hand out. You smile and let him gather you up to sway to the crooner on your little bluetooth sound system.
“I thought,” you say softly into his shoulder, “that you might ask me out before he did, and then when we broke up I thought maybe-”
“But then I didn’t,” he says just as softly.
“Jihyun and I had something. A little thing when he was out Daegu way for a shoot,” you admit, voice hushed. “I think it was just close enough to the anniversary of everything, and not quite far enough away from the breakup. It went all the ways I thought Hyun and I would go.”
“And how was that,” Jumin chuckles.
“Hot and heavy for a while, and now you’d never guess we’d ever willingly seen each other naked.”
Jumin snorts.
The playlist comes to an end and together you stand in the middle of your condo swaying to nothing.
“I don’t want to be like either of them. “Jumin finds himself saying.
Your thumb brushes his bottom lip and when he gathers up the courage to look you are staring at his lips.
“Then don’t.”
There’s nothing urgent about the way your lips meet. A slow build of cautious pecks that lead to firm pressing of lips before he breaks and sucks your bottom lip between his. You sigh, your hand sliding from his jaw to the back of his head. The kiss is unbearably soft in all the ways it takes it’s time to be certain. It’s nearly a decade of unspoken words and what ifs brought to fruition broken only by the buzz of your vibrating phone.
2
“Oh my god,” You’re laying starfish on the floor of the practice space.
“All I’m saying,” Saeran says from behind the double bass, “is that it was just weird that Yoosung said he was home before you said you were home.”
“Oh my god,” you say again.
“How was I supposed to-”
“ Oh my god, ” you groan. “Shut up.”
“So did you fuck?” He says.
“You mean before or after you interrupted us?” You ask sitting up.
“So I did interrupt?” He smirks.
“This is a place of business,” Sooyeon stops flipping through her music and shoots you both a look.
“Was it still a place of business when you were talking about your dick appointment 15 minutes ago?” Junseo snorts.
She rolls her eyes.
“I am going to do Goddess at the event Thursday if you still want to play keys for it,” you say to Saeran.
“What changed your mind?”
“Jumin kissed me,” you say smiling.
“So is it because his dad keep flirting with you or because you might see Zen for the first time since the break up?” Saeran asks unphased.
“Both of those things could be true and also a secret third thing.”
“Which is, “Saeran and Sooyeon both ask.
“He listened to a lot ast night,” you say earnestly, gesturing to the piano. Saeran moves to the keys and warms up with a few scales while you continue. “And he still kissed me, and he didn’t make any promises but a lot was said in very few words.”
Saeran nods. "I get it, communication is hot. And Han Jumin loves to communicate."
“I feel like we’re learning a lot about you right now, Unnie,” Sooyeon laughs.
“Like you used to date Zen? Like the Zen?” Junseo says.
“Literally on the first page of my google results,” you laugh. “It’s in my wikipedia.”
Saeran strikes up the first chord of the song, effectively ending the conversation for you. You’re not quite to the bridge when Jumin slips inside the practice room. “I fucked up the transition Saeran-ah, can we go to the top of the second verse?”
“I played the minor seven not the minor six on the lead in,” Saeran admits.
“I know,” you frown. "And I fucked the timing."
You’re halfway through the second chorus before you see him, standing quietly at the back of the room. Saeran is still oblivious and you’re not sure how much he plays in front of the others. If anyone besides his brother knows that he works here, or plays in your personal band. You pick up the bridge, managing your breath to work through your passaggio on the outro.
“Right into Fever, maybe?” Junseo asks, trading back to the keys.
Saeran doesn’t give you time to respond picking up as Sooyeon hops on the drums. So you let them have their fun. Jumin holds up a tray of drinks as soon as your eyes are back on him and you snap your fingers off beat to get Saeran’s attention. You preen at the way his fingers stutter on the strings when he sees Jumin at the back of the room.
“Did you bring enough for everyone?” He calls out.
Jumin steps away from the table behind him to reveal he did, indeed, bring enough for everyone.
“I think,” you say raising your hand up, “we know these, I’m not going to do a hard set list, it’s a standards kind of night, we’re mostly wallpaper but there should be a few stand out songs.”
“So we’re free?” Junseo asks, “After an hour?”
“You literally have studio time in 30 minutes,” Saeran snorts.
“And I’m always late when we rehearse with Noona in the mornings.”
“You genuinely are not,” you laugh.
Everyone files out taking drinks and bowing as they go past Jumin.
“Iced coconut late with a double shot of espresso,” Jumin smiles holding out a large cup to Saeran.
“You’ve bought my silence this once,” Saeran nods. “You’re bringing Pizza over tonight?” He confirms with you.
“Yep.”
“Iced matcha, with honey and lemon?” Jumin says hesitantly holding out a drink he obviously finds much too green.
“It sounds fine,” you laugh. “It has caffeine, and lemon and honey are good for my voice, thank you,” you add and watch him relax his shoulders. “Why are you here, I saw you two days ago, I spoke to you yesterday?”
“You’re having Pizza with the twins?”
“Nice topic change, I’m having pizza with Saeran, Saeyoung is out on Mondays.”
“My father asked me to confirm the rider with your company,” he says. “I remembered you had an early rehearsal. I was going to ask you to dinner tonight though you seem to be booked.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I will have Mr. Kim check my schedule and get back to you,” he nods.
“Jumin seriously, I got it with Jaehee but come on, just call him Yoosung.” You frown.
“He is Yoosung off the clock,” Jumin shrugs.
You laugh.
“Have you told anyone you’ll be singing at the event Thursday?”
“Saeran knows, because he’s playing so I imagine Saeyoung does, I know Saeran tells him those kinds of things. And I guess Yoosung probably knows from you.”
“Yes well, I do tell him those kinds of things.” Jumin smiles.
“If you mean does Hyun know then I don’t think so, Saeran hasn’t told him, and Saeyoung won’t tell him because then he’d have to admit he still asks Saeren about me.”
Jumin laughs. “Is there a distinction when you call him Zen and when you call him Hyun?”
“There is, I mean I’m sure you can see when he’s Zen and when he’s just Hyun and I hope he’s Hyun more often now. I hope if he’s there Thursday he’ll be more Hyun then Zen.” You shrug, but you don’t clarify.
Jumin thinks he knows. “Should I worry, or prepare for Thursday?”
“For yourself? Have you told him we’re,” you freeze and frowns.
“Dating?” he offers.
“That.”
“He hasn’t asked,” Jumin shrugs.
“Of course,” you laugh. “It’s funny, he spent so much energy concerned there was something between Saeyoung and I, and the only person who ever could have taken me from him was you,and I guess and himself.”
Jumin clears his throat. “I wouldn’t have asked.”
“I wouldn’t have cheated,” you say quickly, “and I know you wouldn’t have put me in that position and I don’t think I really knew it at the time but I think if I’d gotten the impression that you were seriously interested I wouldn’t have let things with Hyun go on as long as they did.”
“I understand,” he nods. “I didn’t and don’t want things to be difficult for you.”
“It will probably be difficult when he finds out but neither of us are in a position that he can harm so it’s fine.”
Jumin feels a little like it won’t be fine, but it will be manageable. He wants to ask about what happened with you and Hyun and your former employer but he finds himself dangerously addicted to the way you cheeks bunch up when you smile, and the way the room gets brighter when you laugh.
You shift the conversation then, offering him a tour of the studio, introducing him to the staff and some of the artists, and makes sure he knows the code to your personal studio before he has to go back to his own office.
“When did you date Zen,” Junseo asks her after lunch.
“We broke up like 5 years ago.”
“Why didn’t I know?” Junseo tries.
“We broke up 5 years ago,” you say checking the mix. “I didn’t know you then.”
“Why didn’t I know you were in the RFA?” he asks.
“I feel like most people google their bosses at some point,” you sigh. “And I am still in the RFA, I just don’t go to the parties anymore.”
“Because your Ex is there?”
“Because you imprinted on me like a baby duck and now I don’t have time because I’ve been babysitting you since you were 17,” you deadpan.
“So are you dating Han Jumin now?” He asks, switching targets. “Is that how we got the C&R investment?”
“Junseo I swear to god if you say that outside this sound proofed room I will kill you myself,” Jinyoung growls.
“No,” you sigh heavily. “The answer is no to the second question. I ran into Jumin on Friday at the gig, it’s his father who contacted us for the investment.”
“But you are dating him.”
“Maybe you should google it,” Saeran says.
“Please tell me it’s not,” you say looking up to where he’s leaned around the door.
“It’s not,” he says, “but you’re late so I ordered a pizza and came to get you.”
“Shit, Saeran I’m sorry I lost track of time.”
“It’s fine.” he shrugs. “Come on.”
“You know I always assumed you two were together,” Junseo admits.
“Gross,” you and Saeran deadpan.
“Sue me for wanting one set of happily married parents,” Junseo pouts.
“Your parents are literally the most in love people I have ever met,” Jinyoung says.
“Mom,” Sooyeon says nodding to Saeran as she squeezes past him into the room, “Dad,” she bows her head before turning your chair and making to dump you out of it.
“Fine,” you huff getting up. “Are you guys sure you don’t need me?”
“You’re all over thinking whatever you’re working on,” Saeran pouts. “Go home.”
“I’ll finish what we talked about,” Jinyoung starts before you can, “I’ll send you the stems when we’re done.”
“Thank you,” you says hands clasped in front of you.
“Please don’t,” Saeran begs pulling you into the hall.
You mouth the words thank you again before he closes the door.
“Am I driving or did you commit grand theft auto again?” You ask as you near your studio, deciding if you need to sneak in and grab your keys off your desk.
“It was once, and I have my own car now, and no the fuck I did not I ordered a pizza on the fucking bus like an adult.” Saeran snorts plugging the code into your door.
“When will it be my turn to be the passenger princess,” you say dramatically.
“I’ll drive your fucking car,” Saeran grumbles but you can see the hint of a smile on his face. You smoosh your cheek against his until he shoves you away.
The drive with Saeran is normal. He complains about adjusting your seat even though there’s a button preset for him. He makes some suggestions for the set list for Thursday and tells you that Yoosung emailed him back about the backline. You start a list on your phone while he runs into a corner store for drinks.
Jumin confirms with you for dinner tomorrow by text and Saeran parks on the street in front of the bunker. No longer a super secure hacker space. Now just a regular bungalow style home, in a regular suburban neighborhood. You’re joking with Saeran, trying to steal pizza out of the box as you make your way in the door. The two of you laughing too hard to hear the door to the garage creak as it opens. Or the three other voices entering through the kitchen until Saeran freezes and says; “Shit.”
“ Shit ?” You huff half laughing.
“Shit,” Yoosung says from the kitchen.
“Fuck,” You and Saeyoung say at the same time.
It’s a beat too late when you notice Saeyoung and Yoosung move towards the door.
It feels like all the air is sucked from the room when Hyun rounds the corner, still smiling because he hasn’t see you yet and he’s never been able to read the room. Your knees almost buckle and you know your grip on Saeren’s elbow has to hurt but you cannot catch your breath.
“We’ll go,” Yoosung says. Angel that he is.
“Why,” Hyun laughs, “Does Saeran have someone over?”
“Kind of,” Saeyoung says, and his voice is so pinched he sounds like he’s in pain.
“We’ll go,” you manage to say. It’s almost spiteful. Almost because you just want him to look at you, to feel maybe an ounce of the discomfort anyone else in this room is feeling because of him. Because of an issue he created five years ago.
He does look up then, head turning until his eyes are locked on yours and it’s a split second of satisfaction before the acting kicks in and Zen is watching you unaffected. “You’re back?” He says, like it’s nothing but any emotion he’s trying to relay doesn’t reach his eyes.
You start to put your shoes back on. “I’ve been back,” you correct him. “Saeran-ah leave them the pizza, we’ll go to mine I’ll get chicken and jokbal.”
“Fuck off,” Saeran huffs.
You watch through your bangs, feeling guilty all over again. Saeyoung looks stricken, Yoosung looks awkward. You want to ask him if he’s happy. If five years out he’s still making this scene, making you apologize, making his friends uncomfortable. Just because you are in the room. But you don’t. Because you don’t want to add to it. You don’t want to analyze how much of this is also on you.
“It’s fine, I want your opinion on that song anyway it’s easier at mine.”
“No, Noona,” Saeran says and it’s almost soft the way he says it despite snapping. “I live here too, you’re my fuckin' friend, I’m sick of it.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Zen says, but there’s something cracked in his actor mask when he says it.
“Yoosung has to leave early,” Saeyoung says by way of apology. “We were just going to play video games.”
“Jumin needed me to shuffle meetings so I don’t have the morning off anymore,” Yoosung says.
You feel your shoulders relax. “Are you fucking kidding me,” you exhale happy to have somewhere to direct a little frustration. “Yoosungie is that my fault?”
Yoosung snorts. “No Noona. Well I mean a little but not- it’s Thursday, Chairman Han keeps shuffling meetings around.”
“The old man’s gonna be a little disappointed,” Saeran chuckles.
You elbow him.
“But you’re writing a song?” Yoosung says remembering what you’d said before.
You laugh, the tension fully diffused now. Saeran is putting the pizza on the coffee table and cordially arguing with his brother, even Zen is relaxing, getting himself a drink in the kitchen as you and Yoosung lean against the back of the couch.
“I write so many songs,” you laugh. “But this one is for me, for once.”
“It’s recorded,” Saeren adds. “She just needs to let Jinyoung fucking set the master but she won’t leave it the fuck alone.”
“Ok well hear me out,” you say. “What if you go fuck yourself.”
Saeyoung barks out a laugh and everything feels so much like a normal night before your break up that you almost tear up.
“You have 4 more songs to record for your EP,” Saeran says, “Thusday’s gig, Junseo and Sooyeon debut in a month and you haven’t signed off on any of your tracks for the album, then your Sunday's, and you have 18 meetings in the next 4 business days.”
“This is why you’re Mom and I’m Dad,” you smile blowing him a kiss.
Yoosung’s eyes are wide.
“Junseo calls you Dad because you bully him," Saeran says.
"And he calls you Mom because you spoil him," you say with an eye roll.
“So you’re still trying to write music for Idols?” Zen asks.
You form a retort. Ready to be clever, to say it's not trying. You're successful, you were nominated for an award last spring.
“She owns a company,” Yoosung says before you can answer. “They just moved into their own studio space and Chairman Han just finalized investments in them. Their artists are really popular overseas and she’s preforming regularly. Noona had a regular spot in a top resort in Jeju, she broke her 5 year contract to open the space here.”
You laugh and blush. “My biggest fan apparently.”
Yoosung blushes in response.
“Saeran’s in my house band,” You add so that you're not the only bashful one here.
“That’s your band,” Zen says.
“Yeah,” Saeran says, a little bit like a challenge.
The night eases into something akin to normal, you and Saeran eat some pizza and heckle Saeyoung before Saeran takes mercy on you and leads you back to his room where he can listen to version 23 of your song.
You don’t have feelings for Hyun anymore. You don’t miss him. But seeing him suddenly in this way was jarring. You feel like he still has so much control over your life in Seoul and you wish a little that Jumin had been here to see first hand what you’d meant when you said you couldn’t just go in the chatroom like nothing had happened. You'd prepared yourself for Thursday. To see him from stage, even if that stage was simply the corner of a banquet hall. You felt a little bit stronger on stage a little more imposing, a little more like the truth in all the things Yoosung had just said about you."
“Alright,” Saeran says when you’ve nodded off on his floor for the fifth time. “I’ll drive you home.”
“Are you staying,” You ask, not fighting him.
“No, I imagine I have questions to answer when you’re gone,” he snorts.
“That’s fair.”
He laughs.
Plenty of times you’ve taken care of Saeran. Back when Saeyoung had first brought him home, afterwards while you were dating Hyun, and during a rough period afterwards when he's been at odds with his brother he’d stayed with you when you were singing in Jeju. Sometimes he takes care of you, like now while he helps you put your shoes on and looks over the bunker to make sure you have all your things.
You yawn and smile softly at him while he teases you but helps you with your shoes. Yoosung is already gone and you’re so focused on keeping your eyes opened and not falling over that you don’t catch Hyun watching you.
“He’ll bring my car back here tonight,” you tell Saeyoung and I’ll get it from him tomorrow after rehearsal.”
“We don’t rehearse tomorrow,” Saeran corrects you, used to you being a little lost in your calendar already.
“The band doesn’t but if we’re doing that song with you on keys you should come in,” you point out.
“Ok, but how will you get in?”
“Carpool.” You say without hesitation
“Jinyoung and Sooyeon don’t drive, no one else lives in your neighbourhood.”
You simply smile at Saeren.